


you set off the fire alarm and I have a test tomorrow, and I might strangle you

by fightfortherightsofhouseelves



Series: carouse [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternatively we have, Dunno if it qualifies but, F/M, Fire alarm - Connecting people, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:15:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24703648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fightfortherightsofhouseelves/pseuds/fightfortherightsofhouseelves
Summary: milestone celebration fic #7(all milestone celebration fics are posted under the series carouse. click on the series to see all published fics!)
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Series: carouse [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1694194
Comments: 14
Kudos: 37





	you set off the fire alarm and I have a test tomorrow, and I might strangle you

**Author's Note:**

> this is unedited but hey maybe it'll make sense

Ginny thought about her very important Anatomy test all week; it was on her mind when she woke up, it was the nagging thought at the back of her head before she went to sleep and it seemed to even creep up in her dreams, giving her nightmares and then succeeding, every time without fail, to keep her awake until morning. It could’ve easily turn into the death of her.

She didn’t even comprehend why it scared her and stressed her out the way it did. It was probably because Professor McGonagall was the scariest person alive whenever she was mad or just as possibly because Ginny was a massive nerd pretending she wasn’t a nerd. Your guess is as good as hers.

When the clock striked 11 PM, Ginny nearly shrieked in the realisation that there were only ten hours left between her and the test, ten hours of cramming at lightning speed and probably rolling on the floor, crying in spontaneous fits of unhinged panic. 

11:01 PM.

11:02 PM.

Ginny nearly tore several pages of her textbook in search of a tiny bit of information.

11:03 PM.

11:04 PM.

Where the f - 

Ah, there it is, right under her nose. She’d only been too deranged to see it. All was well again, all was well.

11:05 PM.

11:06 PM.

11:07 - 

“What the bloody hell is that noise?” Ginny slammed her fist on the desk, a little bit of spit landing unceremoniously on her textbook. To hell with it, she’d deal with the proof of her crazy later.

The noise, as she processed it, began to sound less like a harpy raining down vengeance upon innocent students and more like a...fire alarm? Was her building on fire?!

Ginny sniffed around her small studio with the determination of a bloodhound and assessed that no, she was not about to burn to death (although she was prepared to put up a fight just in case) and that yes, she had to everything within her power to stop this. The noise was truly deafening, a mind-numbingly shrill screech sent from the underworld to sabotage her GPA.

Or from the downstairs neighbour.

Her ear glued to the floor, Ginny determined it was, in fact, her downstairs neighbour. Thus, she swiftly decided to pay him a visit and most probably strangle him - after she’d sent the reched fire alarm careening out the window, naturally.

She stomped down the stairs, prepping her speech and the uppercut blow Bill had taught her when she was entering her pre-adolescent phase. Blood and boogies were known to have dripped out of a couple of noses in Ginny’s peak days.

She didn’t even bother to politely rap her knuckles over the door but jumped right into pushing with all her might against the doorbell, the high ding mixing with the shrill, piercing howl of the fire alarm.

No answer.

So Ginny tried again with another long, loud ding, completely ignoring the fact that her behaviour at that moment was neither proper nor British.

Still no answer. The audacity!

Rolling up her sleeves, Ginny gave the door a hefty push without much consideration for the sanctity of private property and found herself inside a studio as small as hers, books and paper strewn all over and a shirtless, lanky thing smack in the middle of it, his hurricane of messy black head of hair glued to the caterwauling, evil alarm.

“Excuse me,” Ginny started, hands on hips and glowering at the man.

He nearly fell off the wonky looking stoll he’d been using as a ladder, but quickly recovered and resumed the task at hand.

“Excuse me, I said,” Ginny tried again, taking another half step towards the man. “I have a very important exam tomorrow and you are currently disrupting -”

“Give me a hand here, won’t you?” He interrupts, seeming not to have heard a word of her dignified speech. “That screwdriver on the table, could you pass it please?”

Ginny mutters that she’d gladly stick the screwdriver up his somewhere but hands it to him all the same. 

After a bit of fiddling, he tosses the screwdriver away and curses loudly. Then he remembers himself and, throwing Ginny a desperate look, asks for her help.

Having lived alone for the past couple of years, Ginny’d already mastered the secret technique of making things in her house work when they were being stubborn so, she told him, it was very fortunate for him that it was her who appeared in his house uninvited and not some other and let’s say angrier neighbour.

Ginny smiled innocently, took his place on the wobbly stool and, having inhaled deeply, fastly punched the fire alarm exactly three times, to the horror of the man staring at her, gaping.

“What did you do?” He asked, hand over his heart and breathing heavily. 

“A miracle,” Ginny shrugged and her delivery was deemed flawless by the fact that the alarm chose that exact moment to cease its deafening shriek. 

“That or you’ve probably gotten me on the permanent bad side of London’s Fire Department,” he said, looking half-impressed, half-amused.

Ginny hopped down next to him and huffed, “Yeah, well, I didn’t see any of them waltzing in to fix your mess, did I?”

The man laughed as his hand rumpled his hair even more and Ginny noticed he was actually rather fit - the muscles in his abdomen flexing when he laughed, a small dimple appearing under the light scruff on his cheeks.

“I apologise for, as you called it, ‘my mess’ and I hope I didn’t cause too much harm,” he said, finally and Ginny made an effort to wipe the sour expression off her face (and the thirsty look that had surely taken over too).

“No worries, I might only fail the most important test in my academic life.”

He stared at her for a moment, not completely certain she’d been joking or…

“Erm - Sorry?” He gave her a small smile that caught Ginny entirely off guard, thoughts of McGonagall’s rath and upcoming tests replaced by musings of deep green eyes looking at her intently from behind round spectacles.

“You’ll just have to make up for it,” Ginny sighed absent-mindedly, feeling a sudden need to sit down as her legs turned to useless, jelly-like things under his gaze.

He blushed a bit but shook it off quickly and Ginny felt like sighing again. 

“Is that a gentle nudge to take you out for dinner?”

“Apparently, it wasn’t even very gentle,” Ginny said, no longer questioning the odd situation she’d gotten herself into.

He laughed again, this time smiling widely at her as he pushed his glasses back up his nose and rumpled his hair again. He seemed pleased and it made him look even fitter, Ginny contemplated dejectedly.

“Alright, then. Who am I taking out for dinner?”

She grinned, appreciating his smoothness. “Ginny. And who am I having dinner with?”

“That would be Harry,” he mirrored her grin and extended his hand. She shook it, her eyes locking with his.

The clock on his wall showed it was already midnight - and only nine more hours till her test. Against her will, she broke their intense - whatever it was, let go of his hand and sighed her goodbye, promising to get in touch tomorrow, should she still live after McGonagall was done with them.

“Good luck, then...Ginny,” Harry smiled encouragingly, waved her off from his doormat.

Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of her name rolled down his tongue. Swallowing hard, she answered back, “Yeah, thanks. Harry.”

Harry’s dimple made another surprising appearance then and, just like that, Ginny no longer cared about her GPA or even if she’d failed the next day.


End file.
